Ophelia
by DeathEaterBride
Summary: When Hermione accidentally travels to the past, Albus Dumbledore impresses upon her that nothing can change. After decades of living by this rule, can a spark of hope break through her insanity and give her to the courage to disrupt the march of time? Loosely based around the lyrics of Ophelia by the Lumineers.


"Oh oh, when I was younger, oh, should have known better"

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat shouted, and Hermione Granger, or rather Ophelia Dagworth-Granger - as Professor Dumbledore dubbed her, breathed a sigh of relief. After being dismissed from Headmaster Dippet's office, she leisurely made her way to her new house, thinking over the past few days.

It all started when she volunteered to help Professor McGonagall clear some clutter out of her office. While shuffling through a cabinet, she came across the time turner she used in her third year. Lost in the memory of her and Harry's adventure of rescuing Sirius Black and Buckbeak, a loud bang from what she now realized was one of the fireworks Fred and George Weasley were prone to setting off, startled her and the small gold and glass hourglass fell from her hand. Almost instantly, it shattered on the floor at her feet, and the world went spinning.

When it finally stopped and she was finally able to stop retching, she looked up to find herself greeted by a befuddled, fifty-something year younger Albus Dumbledore, and promptly fainted. The next time she was coherent, she was settled on a small sofa in Dumbledore's living quarters, her wand and the remains of the time turner arranged on the table before her.

"Professor, I can explain," she began, before being shushed by the now less confused and more bemused looking man.

"I already know more than I need to Miss Granger." At her shocked look and shark intake of breath at his knowledge of her name, he gestured to her robe. "Your name is printed inside the collar, my dear. I do not need to know where, or rather, when you come from, just your age."

When she answered fifteen, he clapped his hands and declared she should leave it to him.

"In all due respect, leave what to you? The way to send me home?"

And that's how Hermione learned she was 1942, that she would be enrolled in Hogwarts as Ophelia Dagworth-Granger- the pure nice and ward of Hector Dagworth-Granger, who sadly and conveniently passed away some months ago. She watched him forge the necessary paperwork and was being ushered to the Headmaster's office when he finally acknowledged the elephant in the room.

"I am afraid that at this time, I have no way to send you back to your proper home, but fear not my dear, I shall give it my most attention.

"And I can't feel no remorse, and you don't feel nothing back"

Tom Riddle was fuming. Not on the outside, if anyone would have looked at him they would have only seen the polite look he always wore on his face in public, the relaxed body language he conveyed; but on the inside, his mind was in a boiling rage. Abraxas Malfoy just informed him that he heard from his father that a Ravenclaw tired with him in OWL scores. How the girl managed to achieve nine Os baffled him. Mentally kicking himself for not taking Muggle Studies for the easy O, he strolled to the library, the shiny Head Boy badge proud upon his chest.

Walking through the doors, he made a beeline to the quietest area, and spotted her almost immediately, head bent over a book, quill quickly scratching along her parchment. Stopping in front of her table, he let his most charming smile adorn his face.

"Excuse me, Miss Dagworth-Granger?"

Hermione's blood froze. The voice, belonging to the boy in front of her, was one that she was avoiding for over a year already. She never let herself mingle with him, or by extension any of his cronies from Slytherin. It was one of her sole objectives while waiting on her escape from the past; don't get involved. Mentally sighing, she laid down her quill and raised her head to confront the monster in front of her.

"Call me Ophelia, please."

"Shakespeare?"

She hummed a little in response. It was Dumbledore's idea of a joke, a connection to her true name. "How can I help you?"

"Well, I do realize that I should have introduced myself last year, and I was meaning to, but time has a way of slipping by. My name is Tom Riddle, former Slytherin Prefect, current Hogwart's Head Boy."

Trying to gauge what he wanted to suddenly try to integrate himself into her life, she decided to be patient and not seem too repulsed by what she knew of him in the future.

"Charmed," was all she could force herself to say.

"May I study here?"

"Why?" It was out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Because we have something in common, both of us strive to become better."

She gave him a quizzical look, before clearing off half the table for his use.

"Oh oh, got a new girlfriend, he feels like he's on top"

"Crucial," Tom's voice clearly rang out, and Yaxley's screams responded. It was a week before winter holidays, and Yaxley failed him yet again. Thank the gods that he girl he was charged to watch over didn't actually accept the Hogsmeade invitation from the Gryffindor that asked her. After a twist of his wrist, the curse ended, and he didn't spared the boy openly weeping a second glance before he went to meet the girl in question for their bi weekly study session.

All the Knights knew that Ophelia belonged to Tom. They were charged with guarding her, and to keep away any and all competition. None of them knew why he didn't just tell her and make it official, but all were willing to keep their opinions silent.

Tom sat besides Hermione in the library as usual, but today he wasn't focused on his work, and continued to stare at her until she was too flustered to concentrate on her essay.

"What is it Tom?" she huffed.

He blinked at her, before finally smirking at the state his starring caused her and plunked down a small sheet of parchment on top of her unfinished essay. Looking down. She saw it was a pass to the restricts section, one that didn't expire until the end of the school year, signed by the Head Boy, cosigned by Professor Slughorn.

"Happy Christmas Ophelia."

Still looking distrustful at the small paper, she blurted out, "why?"

"Because I wanted to get you something you needed."

Looking up finally, she met his eyes and asked more forcefully, "why?"

The smirk slid from his face. The polite, blank facade wasn't there either. Instead, there was a calculating look that overcame his feature. Staring directly at her face, capturing her with his eyes and not allowing her to dismiss his scrutiny, he started. "Why do you charm the books you read? Why do the notes you take read like translated nonsense? You're researching something you want to keep hidden. Besides your impeccable grades, you keep yourself under the radar. The only person you spend any time around is myself, anyone else who tries to captivate your attention is politely declined. You're trying to make yourself unremarkable, and almost fully succeeded, except for the fact that I seen through your act.

The pass is to help legitimize your extracurricular activities, since I know you've been sneaking into the restricted section regardless. This way, if you do get caught, and won't be punishing. I am protecting you, Ophelia."

Hermione blinked and was broken from the trance he held her in. He knew, of course he knew, and here she was, thinking she was being careful. He didn't know everything, he couldn't possibly, but he picked up enough to give himself a theory. She thanked the gods that he didn't guess the truth, only thought she was studying something much darker than Hogwarts offered on their curriculum. She decided the let him think he was right, to hide behind his misconceptions. He was right after all, his theory about what she was studying would protect her in a way.

"Thank you Tom," she whispered as she carefully tucked the pass into her pocket.

He gave her a silent nod and left the library.

"And I don't feel no remorse, and you can't see past my blinders"

It was spring, and Hermione was in the past for over eighteen months. She was currently in Professor Dumbledore's office, trying to get him back on track with the needed research to send her back to her proper time.

"Ophelia," he began, and she shot him a withering look. He cleared his throat and started again. "Hermione, I am sorry my dear girl, but I'm afraid it's impossible. I told you at the end of last year the same thing, live your life now, in this present, and try not to long for the future."

"Professor, I have nothing here! Everything is waiting for me there!"

"And there it shall wait, child. Nothing you do here will change that. So live! Stop hiding and embrace your life."

Tom watched from behind a crowd as the Gryffindor that asked Ophelia to Hogsmeade months ago tripped down the stairs. Dolohov quickly stored his wand in his sleeve and slipped away quietly in the ensuing chaos. Suppressing a smirk, he stepped through the crowd, ready to take charge as Head Boy.

She found him in the library and sat next to him, not bothering to pull out her own work. After several minutes in silence, he raised his head from his book and glanced at her.

"Apparently, I'm a black widow."

"How so?" he asked, amused by her opening.

She finally faced him. "Why is it that anytime a boy, besides yourself of course, shows any interest in me, the meet with an unfortunate accident?"

He turned back to his book, and looked at her from the side of his eye. "I think you shouldn't ask questions you already know the answer to."

She was quiet for a few minutes, and he went back to reading. He didn't hide the book from her, he hadn't tried to since yule. This one was tame by his standards, and explicit defenses book, one that she read over before.

Hermione thought. She went over all her conversations with Dumbledore, about how he believed she was stuck here, about how he was adamant that the past was in fact set in stone. She thought about her self imposed isolation, the loneliness she felt for the past year and half, and how her only relief was the boy next to her. The boy who was destined to be a Dark Lord, but one who was already so knowledgeable. Her brain itched. She wanted to ask him questions, she wanted his knowledge, even if she would never actually use it. For seven months. She sat by his side, and contrary to her initial thought, it wasn't unpleasant. She watched his blank face, the way his eyes gave him away as he hungrily devoured the printed words, the long and pale fingers splayed next to the text, and she realized there was more than an unconventional emotional comfort that he gave her.

"Tom." When he looked at her, her mind was made up. He did say he would protect her, so what was the harm?

She kissed him, so quick and chaste, her lips were only on his for barely a second. She pulled back and stood swiftly.

"Ok" was all she said and then she left him sitting in the library, with a look on his face that was a mixture of elation and puzzlement.

"Oh oh, Ophelia, you've been on my mind since the flood"

Tom Riddle and Ophelia Dagworth-Granger became inseparable. He introduced her to his cronies, and they all bowed their heads to her. The Ravenclaws gave her nods of respect, recognizing the smart match she made, the remaining members of Slytherin house watched out for her in the halls. The Hufflepuffs remained as courteous as ever, and the Gryffindors didn't approach her, either from disappointment that she choose a Slytherin, or for the fact that either Tom or one of the guards he imposed on her were always wishing arms reach.

"Oh oh, Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love"

As Hermione integrated herself at Tom's left side for meals at the Slytherin table, Horace Slughorn took to smiling fondly at the couple from the head table. A few seats down, Dumbledore would occasionally throw the two students a distrustful look.

Tom Riddle graduated Hogwarts with nine NEWTs, and Ophelia Dagworth-Granger resigned herself to tying his scores the following year.

"Oh oh, got a little paycheck, you got big plans and you gotta move"

Tom Riddle disappointed many when he took a job as a shop keeper's assistant. Hermione knew his silent reasons, and kept quiet. If he thought it strange, he never commented. In her final year, she focused on her studies, with random Slytherins joining her in the library, and pointedly ignored the fact that Tom was searching for more objects to make into horcruxes. Dumbledore told her the past wouldn't change and she chose not to dwell on it.

When she was appointed Head Girl opposite a Hufflepuff, Tom met her in Diagon Alley on his lunch break and they browsed the pet store until she found a small grey kitten she fell in love with. He scowled at it when it promptly tried to swipe at him, and she named him Harry, refusing to explain her reasoning or resulting smirk. He called Harry his downfall and she erupted in semi hysterical giggles for close to ten minutes. When they parted ways, he told her that she was pronounced the Lady of Slytherin and that they all pledged to honor her in the coming year.

She never intended to use the power granted to her, but caved when some boys attempted to sway her from Tom in his absence. They all ended up in the hospital wing due to 'unfortunate accidents' and never looked her way again.

Professor Dumbledore called her to his office randomly a few times during the year. Each conversation followed similar patterns, until the last one. When she entered his office for what ended up being the last time, it started typical enough.

"I am sorry Hermione, I have failed you. I know that your hopes were on returning, and when I have you a definite answer to the contrary, you have seemed to make an abrupt about turn in your actions."

Tension filled the air, she knew where this was heading. She expected it a over a year ago, when she finally accepted Tom fully into her life. "Care to explain, Professor?" she asked, silently bracing herself for what was surely to come.

"When I told you to live your life last year," he began, "I must admit that I never expected the outcome of aligning yourself with Mr Riddle. While he is indeed brilliant, and can be charming, I feel as though something is off about him. I do not believe his intentions are always what he makes them seem, and the ways he goes about his goals are murky at best."

She laughed, truly laughed. Dumbledore fixed his eyes on her until she calmed, and inquired, "And what do you find so amusing about my concerns for your welfare?"

Trying to keep the sudden surge of anger she felt for the man under control, she responded. "You of all people should know that I understand far better how things will play out than others do. For years, I have watched how you have shown your concern in the most backwards ways. Anyone you deem to care about it only fed half truths and manipulated towards your 'Greater Good'. On the other hand, I know Tom, present and future, and not once has he lied to me, only occasionally evaded a direct answer, but has always been completely open and honest to me about who he is, and who he hopes to become.

Last year, you told me to live my life, that nothing could be changed. I hope for your sake that that advice wasn't another manipulation, because I took you upon it."

She stood up from her chair, and crossed the room. Pausing at the door, she looked over her shoulder and addressed him once more. "My name isn't Hermione anymore. It is Ophelia, and according to you, it shall forever remain as such. Do not presume to know me, and I shall be ever grateful to forget knowing a future version of you."

She stormed out from his office, and left the wizard sitting there in the deafening silence that followed.

"And I don't feel nothing at all"

Ophelia Dagworth-Granger left Hogwarts behind, tied with Tom Riddle for the title of most impressive NEWT scores. She had many job offers, but followed in his footsteps to be a shopkeeper's assistant in Knockturn Alley, albeit at a bookstore. She moved into a room above the Leaky Cauldron, to the many protests of Tom. He was staying in the finest room at Malfoy Manor, and was close to ordering her to move in as well. She finally pacified him with pretty words about bettering and improving herself. Their physical relationship remained the same as it was in their school years, with chaste kisses and frequent brushes of their hands.

She was nervous and inexperienced, and he allowed her to set the pace, currently content to let her have control of at least one aspect of their relationship.

"And you feel nothing small"

Living separate came to came to a head one late Autumn afternoon when she strolled into her work and tossed a key, with an address scrawled upon a scrap of parchment attached to it, at her and ordered her to be home immediately after work. When she tried to argue, he silenced her with a glare and swept back out of the door.

Their flat was small, with the half of the living space buried under a mountain of books. Research papers and notes covered almost all of the flat surfaces, and it was only their first day of moving in. That night, he led her by the hand to their bed, and confessed to her that his patience was almost gone. He didn't want to wait, but restrained himself for her.

With clumsy fingers, she unbuttoned his shirt and tried to push it down his shoulders while he distracted her with kisses that overwhelmed her senses. While he moved to taste and nip at her throat, she allowed her fingers to explore the panes of his chest, until they ended up at the waistband of his trousers. With a low growl, he swept her into his arms, and dropped her into the center of the bed. With his body covering hers, she never felt so engulfed. When she moved her hips against his, the sounds she pulled from him made her feel more powerful than she ever had, and she finally understood his addiction to it. She wanted and needed more.

"Honey I love you, that's all she wrote"

Tom Riddle and Ophelia Dagworth-Granger arrived in Hogsmeade together. While she remained in the village, under the care of Malfoy with Yaxley and Dolohov trailing not far behind, Tom made his way to Hogwarts for his meeting with Headmaster Dippet, to apply for the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

Dumbledore, of course, sat in on the meeting, counseling Dippet that Tom was too young and inexperienced, urging the advice that he'd wait a few years more. With a sorrowful air, Dippet declined to appoint him, and Dumbledore insisted on seeing him out. Breaking the silence on the short walk, he inquired about Ophelia, and was given a harsh response.

"She wishes never to think on you again. Whatever you last conversed with her about has left a permanent mark."

The young man slipped out of the main doorway, and strode from the grounds, pausing only to place a curse on the position that he was denied. He made his was to visit the Smith manor, intent on procuring two important items, before traveling back to the village to collect her and begin their journey to Albania. Their sights were set, hers on knowledge, his on power.

"Oh, Ophelia, you've been on my mind girl like a drug"

Hermione knew what he was doing behind closed doors. She didn't allow herself to care. He concreted his plans to rule the world, and she sat unacknowledging behind him, secure in Dumbledore's promise of nothing changing.

"Oh, Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love"

"Crucio."

She watched his eyes flicker red as the masked follower twitched in agony at his feet. Her eyes returned to her book; fear was his power, knowledge was hers. She didn't interrupt, she never did.

Later, in bed, his voice was low and husky when he told her he needed her. She felt warm inside.

"Oh, Ophelia, you've been on my mind since the flood"

It has been thirty-seven years since she arrived in the past. Tom aged, only barely. His horocruxes kept him youthful, a side effect he told her. At most, he only looked about thirty, instead of his actual fifty-three. She knew that she's been alive for fifty-two years, combined, but the face looking out from her mirror still looked like the fifteen year old girl who dropped the time turner. He questioned her once about it, persistently in fact. He stopped when she rolled her eyes at him and told him that he wasn't the only one who dabbled when he shouldn't have.

She had a theory. In 1979, she went to her former parents address, and let herself in under the cover of darkness. Watching them while they slept, she smiled at the bulge of her mother's stomach. Hermione couldn't resist laying her hand upon it, and stared in wonderment as she felt a kick. A month later, she followed the muggle couple to the hospital where they birthed a little boy.

Her heart stuttered before resolutely starting again.

"Oh, Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love"

Her world was shaken, mind confused. Dumbledore was wrong, and she could feel her sanity slipping.

Tom noticed. He saw her mood swings, saw her reading more obscure books. Seen her you're Severus Snape, try to kill Peter Pettigrew. He interfered when she cast an avada he barely dodged and dismissed them so they were alone. She broke down in his arms and he never thought her more beautiful. She mumbled random things; Dumbledore, rats, little boys and how it was changed. He didn't understand and she didn't elaborate. He took her roughly, pushed over the edge of his throne, and she screamed his name. Her head seemed clearer.

He allowed her to vent whatever was troubling her when they were alone. His back sported scars from her nails. He gave as good as he received, and every night multiple healing spells were used. For every slap he aimed at her raised ass, every time he choked her until the brink of unconsciousness, every bruise that formed under his fingers when he gripped her tight, she lost herself deeper in him; realizing he was the only constant she had left.

When Snape delivered the prophecy, she begged him to dismiss it. He ignored her and went to Godric's Hollow.

"Oh Ophelia, you've been on my mind girl like a drug"

"Ophelia Dagworth-Granger, is there anything you'd like to say before we pass judgement on you?"

She was in front of the Wizengamot, on trial after the fall of Lord Voldemort. She hasn't uttered a word since Tom left weeks ago, hasn't tried to run or hide. The Aurors found her at the first flat they shared, the one they always kept. He was gone, but she knew he'd return one day, he always would.

She had nothing, and decided that one boy should have a chance. His trial was scheduled right after hers, and she finally found her voice.

"I would like to testify on the innocence of Sirius Black."

Chaos reigned in the room. Reporters were scrambling for details to this new headline, the crowd began catcalling and Albus Dumbledore simply stared at her.

"Silence! Silence! You may proceed Miss Dagworth-Granger."

Hermione corrected her posture. A fierce resolve took over her face, and as one, the onlookers all began to understand how what appeared to be a slip on a girl held the title of the Dark Lady.

"He was never a Death Eater, denied any contact from us, was too determined to prove his family wrong. Although, there was one of his group who didn't have the same morals. Peter Pettigrew betrayed James and Lily Potter, the slimy rat he is, and I will admit to attempting to rid the world of him myself. Sirius Black is innocent, and I will plead guilty of all charges against me in exchange for his acquittal."

Sirius Black walked free, profusely thanking a woman he had never met. Ophelia Dagwoth-Granger was sentenced to life in Azkaban, with the threat of the Dementor's Kiss over her head.

She sat, and waited, but still never aged. After all, she still had until 1996 for that.

"Oh Ophelia, heaven help a fool who falls in love"

Peter Pettigrew, predictably, fled to Albania when he was discovered in 1995. Lord Voldemort returned and Azkaban was the sight of the greatest breakout in wizarding history. Tom met her outside her cell. She still looked the same, frozen at 15, and he was missing his nose. She didn't care, she kissed him anyway and muttered I told you so.

They both crossed the line of sanity years before, but neither cared. She still sat at his left hand, like she started to all those decades earlier in the Great Hall, but now no longer trying to interfere, only remaining silent as he waged his war.

When the scrawny boy from her memories stood across from the holder of part of her soul, she couldn't remain passive anymore.

"Harry!" She called, moving herself in front of Voldemort, stalling their duel. "Did Sirius give you love?"

Confused, Harry gave her an affirmative answer, having no idea why the Dark Lady would ask that, only knowing from Sirius' stories that she was the reason he wasn't incarcerated unjustly.

She hummed a bit, muttered, "it was all worth it", and spun around, throwing a lilac colored curse at Voldemort.

In his shock, he didn't shield in time, and was hit in his chest. Blood bubbled from his mouth, as he threw a slicing hex back, cutting her from throat to navel. She laughed and stumbled towards him, and they fell together, with her whispering, "I couldn't live without you anyway."

Tom Riddle and Ophelia Dagworth-Granger died together on the floor of the Great Hall, their blood mingling with each other's.

Harry Potter and Sirius Black looked down at the bodies, one who tore their lives apart, and the other who helped salvage them.

Albus Dumbledore wept for the two souls he never bothered to try and save, and prayed for Hermione Granger's forgiveness.

And the wizarding world rejoiced.


End file.
